


No Easy Answers

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Future Fic, Multi, Post-Canon, Present Tense, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Triple Drabble, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-26
Updated: 2006-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written before the last few books were published.</p>
    </blockquote>





	No Easy Answers

**Author's Note:**

> Written before the last few books were published.

The candle casts shadows of light over the mirror. On the other side, a long-fingered, freckled hand pushes my skirt up. I see a pale kiss, mirrorghosts moving to the rhythm of sex.

Black hair.

Red hair.

Brown hair.

Dumbledore said the mirror won't show you anything you don't already know. I thought I didn't know, couldn't choose.

I tear my eyes away. I've always been the sensible one, and even now I can't let myself dream.

Not what's impossible.

I make my way back, trying not to cry, to find my answers on the blank walls of the hallways.

-

When I was sixteen, I thought I'd marry her.

When I was seventeen, I still hadn't told her.

She went off with Krum, and I didn't know what to think. I was just angry.

When we were all twenty-five she still sent letters and howlers but we hardly ever saw her; I married Emma, and you were breaking up with Cho again.

Now we're all thirty and divorced, and she just walks in. Her note is probably somewhere under the post we haven't touched in three days because we've barely left the bed, you and I.

So - what happens now?

- 

Once, a long time ago, there was no-one who knew me well enough to guess my whole life from one half-spoken sentence.

I watch Cho come to conclusions.

She says nothing for a moment, warms her hands on her coffee mug. It's chilly, and her hands are always cold. She doesn't really need to say anything, because I know her too well, too. But she does. She always does.

"So, is it a Potter or a Weasley?"

"It's a Granger, Cho."

"And that makes it simple?"

And, of course, she's right. It doesn't. But I think we'll be all right.


End file.
